Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Congo and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Eric B and Rakim to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Crooked Eye. All the underground hits.
All Harmonia tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sonics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The New Christs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Electric Prunes,
The Toasters,
Marine Girls,
Cecil Taylor,
Jandek,
Idris Muhammad,
Lebanon Hanover,
the Normal,
Ronnie Foster,
Oblivians,
Nirvana,
The Misunderstood,
Gil Scott Heron,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Saints,
Ronan,
Fugazi,
Bang On A Can,
Soft Machine,
Lucky Dragons,
Amon Düül II,
Piero Umiliani,
Q65,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Cramps,
Roxette,
Mo-Dettes,
Fela Kuti,
the Sonics,
Freddie Wadling,
Barclay James Harvest,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Bizarre Inc.,
Monolake,
The Fall,
Bauhaus,
Cluster,
The Red Krayola,
The Searchers,
Pantytec,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Dead C,
Quadrant,
Sister Nancy,
The Invisible,
the Germs,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Marvin Gaye,
Zero Boys,
Lyres,
Boredoms,
Saccharine Trust,
Dual Sessions,
These Immortal Souls,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
New York Dolls,
Massinfluence,
Tropical Tobacco,
Royal Trux,
Vainqueur,
Maurizio,
Hasil Adkins,
Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.